A White Demon Love Song
by vsbanks
Summary: I am not fine with my fate but I am sure of it. I am nineteen years old and in three days I am going to die. Almost five years ago I sold my soul to a demon and if I had to—I’d do it again. OC/ Dean
1. Chapter 1

**Summary:** This is kind-of an AU but not really, Dean and Sam exist and not just in Chuck Shurley`s novel.. but try telling that to the rest of the Hunter community. The angel's have made it so the Winchester's have been forgotten, flying under the radar for reasons that are not in the light at this point! The entire story is going to be told through Mabel's perspective, and she's got a lot to say!!

**Warning!! **Not going to lie there`s going to be fluff, and inappropriateness but what's a story without it?

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I am not fine with my fate but I am sure of it. I am nineteen years old and in three days I am going to die. Almost five years ago I sold my soul to a demon and if I had to—I'd do it again.

The author, Chuck Shurley is a self proclaimed prophet- and opened his fifth novel with this line

_Dean Winchester the only man to come back from hell physically unscathed and soul still intact, however withered it may be. _And since Matthew read it he's dedicated himself to turning my life and in the process his own life upside down.

Here's the deal.

Matthew replicates that of a Justin Beiber fan girl when it comes to these novels. At first that's all they were, a pass time. But when the fifth novel came out they were much more, he saw them as the answer—the way out for me. I could see the way his mind would begin to reel and worse I could hear it. He was obsessed, pretending aloud that he didn't believe in the existence of angels or god but in his head it was his most constant thought. He believed that if he could find the Winchesters I would be saved by an angel of all things-- soul intact, Body untouched. If it was all real, which it isn't I'd still have to go to hell. Through Matthew I know Dean was only in hell for about four months but in hell time—it was more like forty years. It's a bit terrifying to know that time could move that slow, that agonizing.

Matthew and I hunters, born and raised---and the Winchester's actually existing is about the closest thing to a fairytale that hunters know. The Apocalypse is here, and I hate to admit it and I won't out loud but were not going to win. The idea that two brothers might exist somewhere out there with an angel and god fighting on their side was a fairytale. Matthew had a lot of false hope weighing on the odds that it was all real, but with day's left and close to five years behind him of searching for them he has nothing to show for it. I'm still going to hell.

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**Eight months later**,

I could smell air and whoever argues that its not the best smell in the entire world needs to revaluate that statement after smelling sulphur for eighty years. I could breathe easy and the realization petrified me. I couldn't open my eyes because I was scared of what was waiting for me. A cool breeze started at my feet and swept across the rest of my body bringing attention to spot on my midsection that was burning, like it was blistered. Hell was getting creative I had to give it that—then I heard Lynard Skynard, really creative. My eyes fluttered open and where their used to be suffering was a man sprawled out on the bed next to mine—fast asleep. I sat up as quietly as I could and quickly, another man was asleep on the sofa sitting upright.

I crossed the room, my bare feet padded quietly across the tiled floor but it still seemed too loud. I had no idea where I was or where I was going but at least the second part I could control myself. I did a quick second glance back at the two men when I got to the door. The one that had been lying down had shifted slightly, curled off to his side now but still deep in sleep—the second was no longer on the couch. My heart began to race as I balled my hands up into fists preparing my self to fight before flight. Before I could really get my wits about me I was crashing into the closed door behind me, I stared wildly up at the man in front of me clawing at his grip then with some clarity I brought my knee up to his groin and he stifled back.

"Wait, Wait. I'm not going to hurt you!" He grinded out through his teeth still hunched over. I noticed the other man get to his feet, looking sleepily at the pair of us.

I stopped to listen—and not in the literal sense. I stopped so I could listen in on their thoughts. First the taller, the attacker. His name was Sam, and he was telling the truth-- he had no intention of hurting me but beyond that I couldn't sift through his chaotic thoughts fast enough to find the real reason for trying to keep me here. I tuned him out and focused on the other who wasn't thinking anything at all, impossible—I tuned out.

"I believe you-" I said and I looked down at myself, nothing was right. I should be shredded. I gazed back up locking eyes with the silent one, his expression was strange. He looked confused but with what I couldn't figure out. "You can't keep me here though--I'm alive right?" The question seemed stupid aloud but I really couldn't be sure.

"Yeah you're alive." The other one finally broke his silence; his voice was coarse from just waking. I nodded and took a better look around. I was in a motel, it was the tacky 70`s décor that made that clear.

"Okay- who are you?"

"Oh I think you know that Mabel." I twirled my body around on the spot to see the third man, one I swear wasn't there just a second ago. I stared at him my head spinning with his words in a disordered array of various sentences and images—his mind was perhaps the most complicated one I'd ever heard but also I could hear with more clarity and the combination was overwhelming. To distracted I allowed him to bring his hand up to my face palming my cheek before I fell to the ground where darkness welcomed me.

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Hope you like the beginning I know its short but I wanted to just post something. See if you liked where it was going!


	2. Chapter 2

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His name was Liam, it was hard to believe a—thing like him could have ever been human once. He must have been born a demon I reasoned with myself. He was the one I was going to see every time I closed my eyes and I knew that. In hell demons all look the same, their faces twist chaotically but Liam was different blood oozed from the sores on his mouth when it tightened into smile. After twenty years of suffering with him I'd stopped screaming out for help. Which only pushed him further --but after a while even screaming takes up to much. As he drove another rod through my stomach I awoke. My eyes scanned the room to settle on his face. I couldn't call it familiar yet, but he was there and his presence didn't scare me. He was sitting upright on a chair across the room as if he'd been watching me for sometime.

"What happened?" My voice was hushed from just waking and I'd noticed the other man—Sam was asleep and I didn't want to wake him. I couldn't help but admire how peaceful the large guy looked, I envied it actually.

"Yeah Cas tends to do that." He smiled but it didn't quite reach his eyes.

"Cas—he isn't human." I said all matter of fact and when no surprise registered on his face it confirmed it. I knew he wasn't demon either but something else. "And you?" He chuckled at this inquiry.

"Oh I'm all man." He smirked and I just stared at him until his grin slowly faded. I enjoyed that he wasn't getting too comfortable—just yet. That would just be giving up the last bit of power I had. I stared around the room again this time finding the bathroom. The shower stall looked foreign at the moment.

"Feel free to the use the shower." I nodded and stood, my clothes felt worn and stale.

"Could I borrow a shirt or something and some shorts?" He got up from where he was sitting and crossed the room in my direction. And stopped right before me as if he was sizing me up or something, I stared up at him reluctantly but with determination to stand my ground. It lasted for just a moment before he leant down where his duffel bag was lying. I was glad for the dark otherwise he would have easily seen the deep crimson crawling up my neck.

"Thanks." I disappeared into the bathroom, no window so that option is out for an escape. I needed a way out but I knew I had to be smart about it. Their intentions were clear enough that I wasn't in any immediate danger but I still wasn't sure. Whatever it was that I was going to do it needed to be soon, Matthew was out there somewhere and alone.

I turned on the hot water letting my hand sit under it until it stung slightly. I tugged off my jeans and then my shirt, across my ribs was a perfect imprint of what looked like a hand. The scar was ugly against my reasonably unmarked skin. It simply didn't fit. I sighed and took off my bra and underwear before stepping into the shower. I can't describe how perfect this felt. I had to stifle a moan it was that good. Motel soap never felt this great on my skin. After ten minutes of just standing still under the hot spray of water I half-heartedly turned off the water. Wrapping myself in a towel then pulling on his t shirt that hung off of me like a tent and a pair of plaid boxer shorts which I had to roll down at the waist to keep them from falling off.

I walked out into the motel to see that Sam was now awake, he was in the door way letting in that really early dark blue morning sky that I missed seeing so much.

"What's going on?" Dean swivelled around looking me up and down before turning back to face Sam.

"Sam's going out to get some food." I nodded sitting down on the mattress. I looked at Sam once more this time tuning in. He would bring back food, but he was really going out to do some research. On me. Before I was used to people lying to me but this irritated me. They were investigating me and I was the one being held up in a motel room in I don't know where.

When Sam shut the door behind him Dean sat down in the same chair as before this time picking up a book, he didn't look entirely interested in it. More like he was trying to look for something to prevent having to make conversation with me.

"Look I—you two are obviously planning on keeping me in the dark but I can't stay here. There's someone I need to make sure is alright." Honesty is the best policy and this seemed to strike a cord with him. He nodded thoughtfully.

"Believe me I get it but not just yet." I've not been able to make my own decisions for so long that I wasn't going to start listening to him too. He was hardly threatening.

Without thinking I stood and made my way towards the door. He grabbed my arm roughly when I got a firm grip on the door handle.

"Let go." My voice was firm and that only made his grip tighten. I elbowed him hard in the stomach freeing myself from him. "Either you're going to let me go by my free will or I'll find another way." He did that stupid smug laugh again which only pissed me off more. I hadn't realized he had pinned me up against the door way leaving the same vulnerable place open that his brother had made the mistake of doing earlier.

"You know you and your brother make it so easy." He smiled noticeably not really taking in what I was saying. I kneed him hard in the groin and honestly felt a little bad when I saw him fall back, But not bad enough to keep from making my way outside into the night. My heart fell into stomach as soon I saw him, his body wasn't his own but that black twisted face was the same, his thoughts were loud and chaotic crashing into my head without permission. I knew he had seen me but like a coward I ran back inside.

"Back so soon?" He struggled out through his teeth.

"Do you have anything iron?" I asked my voice unlevelled and frantic. It was too soon, it was all too soon. I shouldn't have ever been freed if it only meant being chased back down by him. Maybe this was all his creation. I looked back at him and he had found a knife—it looked familiar for some reason.

"Wait here." He booked it out the door before I could protest I wanted to be the one to see whatever still lingered in Liam to fade but I couldn't bring myself to run out after him. Within moments he returned knife still in his grasp looking just as calm as he would look after finishing a chapter in a book. "Whatever was out there is gone now." I couldn't of been imagining him, he was too real. I needed to find Matt, he wasn't safe now that the deal was broken.

"What's your name?" I looked up at him realizing we still hadn't covered introductions, just thrown in a room together and if I was going to have any sway on him I at least need to get to know him.

"Dean." _Dean, Dean and Sam—Dean and Sam Winchester_ you've got to be fucking kidding me.

"Winchester?" He did this uh-huh thing while taking one last peek out of the motel's heavy drapes. Had Matthew been right?

"Wait how do you know that?" I shook my head dismissively; I was running out time—if I even had any left.

"What's the date today?"

"May 18th 2010" Eight months roughly since I'd been—dead, I needed out of here. "I'm not asking for you to let me go but I need you guys to take me somewhere." From his expression I could tell he thought I was joking. "What's easier you always having to be on guard because I'll be trying to escape or just coming with me."

"Where are we going?" He asked through gritted teeth his voice deep with irritation. He and Sam were put in charge of me for some reason and something was telling me they didn't know entirely either. But as of about five seconds ago I learnt a hell of a lot more about them then they did about me.

I woke up on the deck of a ferry boat in the back of Deans Impala the doors locked and both brothers standing on either side in effort to keep me in. Neither had noticed I'd woken and seemed to be arguing; their voices were muffled but clearly aggravated. I tuned in on Sam head hoping to gather a little insight. The guy seemed to be defending me—

From just six hours in a car with him it was hard to believe he was capable of anything the novels had said he did. When I got bored of just staring at asphalt or trees I'd listen in on him, his thoughts were mostly concerning his brother and once and a while he'd turn to check on me or look in the rear view mirror—he thought I was pretty, despite really not wanting to. He compared me to a girl named Jess, who if she was the one from the books she had also died. I never compared very well though in his head, which I admired his loyalty but couldn't help but feel a sadness for him. He imagined scenarios when this was all over, dying and going to heaven where she'd be waiting.

I knocked on the glass breaking the conversation into delayed silence. Dean bent down and opened the front door and threw me one of those disgusting pre-packaged egg salad sandwiches you get in the cooled sections of gas stations. I made a funny face like I could smell it already and was repelled.

"Could you crack a window at least it's getting pretty hot in here." He sunk into his chair and closed the door rolling down the window. He was smarter then I thought. There was something he clearly wanted to say, he kept opening his mouth the closing it again. I smiled at him in the rear view mirror. "Just ask?"

"Your suppose to be dead." I nodded.

"You and Sam know better than me it's not impossible to come back from the dead." I stared out the window not wanting to keep on the topic of death. It was already all around us without needing to talk about it too. "I was dead and then I went to hell and then I woke up in a motel with you guys, that's all I know." His eyes snapped on me like a target with some secret conviction. I tried again to latch onto his head-- find something, but again it was nothing.

"But you were dead for eight months?" He said again, this time I understood why. He was working out the math. Eight months—eighty years. We held eye contact until Sam slid into the passenger seat, he broke away first leaving me regrettably a little empty feeling.

"Were about to dock." He said flicking on the radio.

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third chapter will be up soon cause im really loving writing this story!

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	3. Chapter 3

short update but don't worry more coming really soon!! thanks for the comments!!

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Snow in fucking April—you have to love Canada. I grew up here, well spent the most of my childhood here. So it wasn't a complete shock to find Matthew had moved back. Our roots are all on this island—whatever family that was still alive lived in Comox, a town that was never as small as I remembered it as a child. We passed the population sign and I knew we were pretty close to the old house—where Sam had found out he was living now. It was scary how easily they could track him down, if they had found him so quickly I knew others were not far behind if not already there.

"Just off this road-- here on the right." I directed to Dean who still refused to look at me—angry since our last conversation. But in the moment I didn't care because there on a slight hill covered lightly by tree's was the house I grew up in. And like driving up to it after a school day the lights were all on, and I could see Matthew in the kitchen. We pulled into the drive and before I could get out Dean snapped the locks shut.

"What the fuck do you think your doing?" Even I could hear the sting in my voice, I sounded hard and unforgiving and it caused Sam to flinch back but not Dean. He didn't back away from me creating a safe distance he just turned his head around so he could face me better, finally looking at me again.

"First some ground rules." I remember what it felt like to have a level temper. That control was a comfort but if hell did anything to me it taught me what really mattered—when I was down there I thought about the things, the people that helped me remember what it was like to be human. I thought if I ever got out nothing would keep me from them, there'd be not limit to what I would do to see them once more. If it made me feel once more human.

"Fuck ground rules; you want to know why the angels want me? because their scared of what I can do. They'd rather have me on their side then well the obvious. If you don't unlock the doors right now I'll show you exactly what it is I do." Complete bullshit—Dean's stare was cold and hard, even though I couldn't hear him as clearly as Sam I figured he probably was weighing his options. If I was lying then the result was predictable, but if I was telling the truth he wasn't just risking himself but Sam too. The doors unlocked and I slid out in a hurry running across the snow covered front lawn in bare feet. I didn't bother knocking throwing myself through the front door to face Matthew. His face was indescribable.

"Hey kiddo" I smiled, his face altered into a more unforgiving expression. Throwing holy water in my face when nothing happened he quickly made a slash across my fore arm with what I'm assuming was a silver knife. God were dysfunctional. When nothing still he engulfed me into his arms, he'd grown almost to Sam's height now. He wasn't my little brother anymore that's for sure. While I was on my tippy toes holding on to Matt for dear life scared that he might disappear, Dean and Sam fell in behind me.

"Who's this?" Sam reached out to introduce himself but I cut in.

"Uh—this is Jake and Luke." Dean shot me a questioning look—I ignored it. The truth was during that seven hour long drive it took us to get here I had made up my mind it was for the best that Matt didn't know that Dean and Sam Winchester actually existed. That Dean's hell actually existed—that time moved unbearably slower in that hell. That would weigh on him.

"Jake and Luke?" He repeated.

"Mhmm, Jake and Luke" I pointed to each one of them assigning the names—Dean was Luke and Sam was Jake. "Their hunters, they found me." Always courteous Matt reached out and shook both of their hands, and gestured for them to sit down while grabbing them a beer and turning on the t.v. We moved into the kitchen.

"Care to tell me what the hell happened?" Matthew asked me the moment we were out of hearing range.

"I don't know Matt, I just woke up—one minute I was dying and then I was waking up in a motel room." That was one of the prettiest lies I'd ever told.

"No hell then at least not that you can remember?" I shook my head, he let out a breath that you could tell he was keeping in for a while, Guilt that he was keeping a hold of for eight months.

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"The bathrooms just down the hall and towels are just in the hall closet here. You'll be sleeping/" He shoved me hard into the emptied guest bedroom closing the door quickly behind us.

"Who are you?" Dean had me cornered and he was not happy. I knew this was coming, all night he had been watching me while I caught up with Matt. While we all laughed including Sam he just kept his eyes glued to me—not scowling but not laughing a long either. I laughed lightly not sure how else to respond really. He slammed his hand into the wall beside me I straightened but did not flinch.

"Alright I may have told a little lie." I said with a big smile. He let out an aggravated growl. "You would have done the same if you were in my situation." He nodded and leant off the wall freeing me slightly but still remaining close.

"And why did you lie about our names?"

"Matthew's read the books, the ones about you. I didn't want him knowing everything." I moved around him and sat on the bed.

"You mean you didn't want him knowing about hell, I heard you lying to him. You told him you just remember waking up." Dean stated.

"I didn't want to put that sort of weight on him, he'd try to make up for those years." My voice shook off towards the end. Memories were always on the edge and once and while consuming me.

He took a seat beside me relaxing since the first time I'd met him. I took the time to look him over—admire him really. He looked tired; I would have liked to see him before all of this. I found myself wondering what he looked like when he smiled, what it sounded like when he laughed.

"I should be getting to bed. We'll figure the rest out tomorrow." I said finally breaking our long silence that never felt uncomfortable to keep. Before I could stand he grabbed my hand holding it the bed. On instinct I leant in gently touching my lips with his. He breathed out heavily—I'd craved this feeling in hell. Held onto the memory of it but no memory could feel like this, this lovely. I fell back and stood up.

"Goodnight Dean." I could feel him watch me leave but I didn't look back. I would have stayed but he didn't want it—not really, or he would have asked me, wouldn't he of?


End file.
